


Something in the Way He Smells

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine One-shots [14]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkward Romance, Drabble, Fluff, Humor, M/M, New York, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3623508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has tried everything to find a nice guy, but he's fallen short every time. Along comes Sam with a special cologne guaranteed to get Blaine noticed, but with possibly some unintended side effects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something in the Way He Smells

**Author's Note:**

> This AU assumes that Blaine went to McKinley with the rest of the Glee gang, but doesn't meet Kurt until he moves with Sam to New York.

“Are you sure this stuff is safe?” Blaine asks, turning the atomizer of clear liquid over in his hands. He glances up to see Sam watching him, a proud smile on his face as he presents Blaine with his newest genius plan. Blaine knows his best friend is only trying to help him out. Blaine was starting to get on his _own_ nerves with his constant bitching about the lack of eligible men in a city of 8 million people, but he felt he’d tried everything – night clubs, speed dating, personal ads, gym memberships. He had just about thrown in the towel when Sam stepped in and decided to lend a hand. Blaine appreciates having Sam in his corner, and he has actually come up with a few good ideas, but Blaine has to raise an eyebrow at some of the more _experimental_ stuff Sam suggests. Blaine honestly thought Sam had peaked with the padded underwear thing (Sam said he felt a little more booty might be the thing to get Blaine noticed) but this…it sounds like a scam – some trendy, overpriced snake oil aimed at desperate losers like him.

Blaine sighs. He knows he’s going to have to try it. He doesn’t want to hurt Sam’s feelings. Well, at least the bottle looks really pretty. He pulls off the stopper and gives it a whiff. It smells slightly bitter with fruity undertones, but otherwise it doesn’t seem to have a discernible odor.

“Absolutely,” Sam says, grabbing the bottle from Blaine’s hands and spritzing him with it before Blaine can object or dodge the spray. “Pheromones are all the rage nowadays in attracting members of the opposite sex…or the same sex, which is why in your case, I bought the girl version.” Blaine scrunches his nose at that, but decides to let it slide. He understands Sam’s mindset, even though he’s not convinced it will work in his favor. “Besides, the website says this comes from all-natural sources. All-natural…like, from nature, so it has to be safe.”

“I hope you’re right,” Blaine says, taking the bottle back and examining closely the glass with absolutely no label to clue him in as to what’s in it. He gives his shirt an experimental sniff, but all he smells is something vaguely floral and sweet. He’d like to jump on the Internet and peruse the website for warnings and whatnot, but he doesn’t have the time. “I guess it’s too late now.”

“Here,” Sam says, handing Blaine his messenger bag, a blueberry muffin, and a rather large brown paper bag with his lunch in it, “go out and conquer. Oh, and don’t forget to text me when the mob of sexy men chases you into the subway. If I can write a testimonial, I get $5 off my next order.”

“Will do,” Blaine says with a laugh and a shake of his head. He hands over the pheromone spray and waves good-bye, heading out their apartment door.

Blaine shuffles down the steps and out onto the sidewalk, suddenly self-conscious about the way he smells, not because the scent of the perfume is overpowering – outside in the chill New York air he can barely smell it - but if it attracts people on a chemical level, does that mean it will influence their behavior towards him? Will people who are normally nice to him avoid him? It’s a frightening premise, incurring unwanted affection, or possibly anger. Suddenly, leaving his apartment wearing this stuff seems like it could be a spectacularly bad idea.

He stands silently and watches as a few men and women cross his path. They ignore him as they bustle by, occupied with their cell phones or with eyes glued ahead. He smiles awkwardly at one teenaged girl who gives him a judgmental once over while she speeds away, but other than that, he gets no reaction.

Blaine starts to relax since it seems that these pheromones on his body aren’t going to cull the attentions of every man, woman, and child within a fifty mile radius. He adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder and starts on his way when he feels an unexpected pressure on his right toe. He looks down and sees a grey squirrel crouched on the toe of his boat shoe, staring up at him expectantly. Blaine considers the animal and the animal considers him back. Then, as if the squirrel couldn’t be any cuter, it grabs a hold of Blaine’s pants with its paw and tugs.

“Awww,” Blaine coos. “Hey, little guy. You hungry?” Blaine breaks a crumb off his muffin and hands it to the animal, who reaches up and grabs it, then takes off toward a nearby tree. Blaine watches the squirrel bolt up into the high branches and thinks _today is going to be a good day_.

Blaine has only gone half a block before he gets the strange sensation that he’s being followed. He looks over his shoulder and sees a couple of pedestrians behind him, but no one who appears interested in him in particular.

 _Great. This stuff is making me paranoid_ , he thinks. He focuses on getting to the subway to catch the 10:15 train, but the feeling of being followed doesn’t go away. He decides to confront whoever might be after him head-on. If someone approaches him in the daylight, there will be plenty of witnesses around to help. Blaine quickly pulls to the side and spins around, standing in front of a bodega, eying the people rushing by, but no one comes up to him. No one even looks at him.

He raises a hand to his temple, rubbing hard to clear the growing ache in his head. Okay, he has to get to a public restroom and wash this stuff off. Unfortunately, the only one he knows of between here and school is _at_ school, so he’s going to spend an hour of traveling time slowly going insane.

_Well, if it’s inevitable, he’d better get started._

He makes to leave when he feels pressure again, not only on his right toe but his left. He looks at his shoes with eyebrows raised and sees two squirrels this time – one sitting on the toe of each shoe.

“So you’re back,” Blaine says, breaking off pieces of muffin to feed the squirrels, “and this time you brought a friend.” He watches the squirrels grab their muffin crumbs and abscond away, wondering if he should just leave the rest of the muffin for the squirrels since he doesn’t have much of an appetite. Besides, by the weight of the brown paper bag in his hand, he’s sure that Sam packed him enough food to feed a small army.

But he doesn’t want to be a litter bug, so he takes the muffin with him. If the squirrels want more, they obviously know how to find him.

He’s a block away from the corner when not one, not two, but three pigeons swoop down at him, barely brushing his hair with their claws.

“What the…” He raises his arms to block his face, but the pigeons zoom away as fast as they came.

Being trailed by pigeons isn’t anything new in New York. A few months ago, his friend Santana had a pigeon fly up in her face while she was getting out of a cab. These dive bombers probably noticed that he was doling out free food. Blaine crumbles up his muffin and drops it in the hopes that he can assuage any other attackers with this offering, then hurries for the corner. All he has to do is turn the corner and walk half a block and he’ll be at the subway.

That’s about the time Blaine hears dogs barking in the distance, and he knows, he just _knows_ , they’re coming after him.

He runs for the corner, spurred on by the yipping and barking of the dogs behind him. He attempts not to shove people aside as he makes a break for it, but he’s unable to help the one person he accidentally trips.

“Out of my way! Out of my way!” Blaine screams, peeking behind him while he runs, finally catching sight of three dogs barreling his way.

Blaine almost skids out into the street as he turns the corner on one foot and takes off toward the subway.

He doesn’t anticipate the man standing right in his way.

Blaine collides full on into the man’s back, nearly sending them both to the ground.

“Jesus!” the man yells, stumbling forward with the addition of Blaine attached to his back, arms wrapped around his waist.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry!” Blaine rambles, grabbing on tight to the man’s arms to keep him from falling, shaking as he hears the dogs coming closer. “I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t looking where I was going…but there are these dogs chasing me…”

Standing there, trying his hardest to explain, the three dogs race by with their owner holding their leashes, rollerblading behind.

Blaine takes a deep breath as he watches them pass, relieved that he’s not going to get mauled after all, but now he’s stuck having to make amends with the man in the stunning Alexander McQueen suit who’s still locked in his iron grip.

“At least, I thought they were chasing me,” Blaine sighs. “I…”

“It’s alright,” the man laughs, standing up straight and subtly shrugging Blaine off. He looks down at the sleeves of his suit, tugging at them to straighten the wrinkles. “No harm done.” He turns and sees Blaine standing behind him, chest heaving as he tries to calm down. “My name’s Kurt, by the way,” the man says, holding out a hand for Blaine to shake. “I figure I’d introduce myself seeing as you’ve already made it to second base.”

“Oh, uh…Blaine,” Blaine says. “My name’s Blaine.”

“Blaine. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Blaine. And who’s your friend?” Kurt gestures above Blaine’s head and Blaine looks up, crossing his eyes to see who Kurt is referring to. A small squirrel head pops into view, and Blaine jumps.

“Oh…he’s been following me everywhere,” Blaine explains, shooing the animal away with one hand.

“He brought friends,” Kurt observes with a laugh, taking a step back as a ring of squirrels approaches Blaine on all sides.

“Uh,” Blaine utters, turning around in a circle, gently moving the squirrels away with his feet. “My roommate - he sprayed me with some kind of pheromone perfume that’s supposed to attract men, but I think it just attracts wild animals.”

“I don’t buy into those products that claim to appeal to our _primal_ sides,” Kurt comments, helping Blaine disperse the furry horde with a careful swing of his bag, “as if finding a date and finding a mate are always interchangeable.” He scoffs. “I also find it hard to believe that a perfume infused with human pheromones would actually work.” Kurt raises a questioning eyebrow. “Which were you going for, anyway?”

“A date,” Blaine assures Kurt quickly. “Just…a date.”

Kurt steps closer to Blaine and leans in to take a sniff. He backs away with a neutral expression on his face, smelling the air around him. “It’s not bad, but…” Kurt peeks over Blaine’s shoulder, down the sidewalk the way he came, and smiles, “I think there may be another reason for all your _admirers_.” Kurt reaches for the paper bag in Blaine’s hand and holds it up. Blaine sees a small hole in the bottom edge, and from it, crumbs drip out onto the ground. Blaine takes the bag and opens it. Along with his lunch, Sam crammed in a dozen or so blueberry muffins. On top of the pile of food, he left a note. Blaine pulls it out and reads it aloud.

_If the perfume doesn’t work, giving out muffins is always a good way to meet people._

_Sam_

“Well, he’s not wrong about that,” Kurt says, laughing when the squirrels swarm Blaine’s bag of muffins, leaping up to grab hold, trying to bring it to the ground. “That’s one thing about animals in New York. They have no fear of people. They’ll take food right out of your hand.”

“I can see that.”

While Blaine is distracted by the squirrels clamoring after his lunch, Kurt takes another sniff of Blaine’s shirt.

“You know, that stuff actually smells really nice,” Kurt says, the tone of his voice changing slightly, becoming deeper, softer. “Which way are you headed?”

“Uh…to the subway,” Blaine answers, watching Kurt walk around him, sniffing his shirt at odd intervals. “I’m heading uptown.”

“Would you mind if I walked with you to the subway? ( _sniff_ ),” Kurt asks, following Blaine as he starts walking. “We’re ( _sniff_ ) both going ( _sniff_ ) in the same ( _sniff_ ) direction.”

“Really?” Blaine asks, catching glimpses of Kurt as he bends forward to smell his shirt. “I’m going to Manhattan. Is that where you’re going?”

“Sure,” Kurt says with another sniff. “Why not?”

 


End file.
